It seems like, at the end of things, we tend to get introspective. Certainly, even here at Never Say Dice we have a history of posting our New Years' resolutions - and this year was no different. We seem to have a need for chances to reflect on what has been and pontificate about what the future could be. It even happens in the video game world. We talk about what we loved and hated in the games we've played, and, from there, make wild predictions about what potential sequels might contain. While they’re often hilariously wrong, it's a common activity we all gravitate towards when it comes to the media we collectively love. It shouldn’t be any different for tabletop games. We all need some time to think about what we did wrong (and right!) in our previous sessions and how we might change things the next time an opportunity appears. So, sit back and get organized with Never Say Dice for some post-adventure postmortem. Feedback You’re probably going to get feedback from a nu...

It seems the New Year has once again caught us off guard. 2024 has been a tumultuous year, for the Never Say Dice crew and the rest of the world, to be honest. We don’t need to go into specifics of the things we’ve gone through in the past year (feel free to insert your own), but the short version is that our other responsibilities have meant less time: less time for gaming, less time for media, less time for storytelling. As we go into the new year, there’s no sign that any of this is going to be slowing down, and will likely get much worse. None of this will keep us from our annual New Year’s Resolutions post, however - it’s simply a factor to consider, for us and for yourselves. It’s going to be tough out there, dear reader, and we all need to remember that every little thing is a victory. Here are some of the little things we’re going to try to do in 2025. - B A : There really isn’t a need to go into what's held us back, or what we’ve accomplished, and certainly I don’t expect ...

I don't think I've seen it out there as a meme, but you can tell a lot about a person's history by asking which iteration of A Christmas Carol was their first. Consummate child of the 80s that I am, for me it Mickey's Christmas Carol , taped onto Beta from some mid-80s showing. At the time, I didn't appreciate that it was only the second ever screen appearance of the already-legendary (in comics), although it did help set the stage for my DuckTales fandom shortly afterwards. While a number of changes are made for time, intended audience, and the central hook of casting existing Disney characters, Mickey's Christmas Carol doesn't duck (sorry) its responsibilities when it comes to the story's final climax: the existential horror shown Scrooge by the Ghost of Christmas Future - a terrifying, yet captivating, sequence for a youngster like myself, capping off a story involving more temporal complexity than anything I'd ever seen to that point. ( Back to...

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen. Comet, Cupid, Donner…ah, you probably recall all of them including Rudolph - the most famous department store mascot reindeer of all. If you're a regular reader of the blog, it shouldn’t be any surprise we’re bringing up a Rankin-Bass Special yet again . Previously, we've dissected Mad Monster Party , frequently referenced their animated Tolkien adaptations , and taken inspiration from both Santa Claus is Coming to Town and, yes, Rudolph .  This time though, especially after having just passed the 60th anniversary of the original airing, we revisit Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and take a look through the lens of a classic tabletop adventure. So pull up your ice blocks, lend your ears, and keep an open mind about treating this holiday classic as an adventure. Peppermint! The story itself works best as a starting point, or even backstory followed by a shorter truncated adventure. You get introduced to a few of the main cha...

Given the power they exert over film and other visual media, it's no surprise that some editors think of themselves as gods... and when it comes to turning raw, disorganized messes of raw footage into complete narrative products, they might as well be. Not to mention the advice that a (possible) god once told (wannabe god) Bender, that goes doubly for editors: "when you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all." Not to say there isn't flashy editing, of course, the kind of cuts that demand a viewer's attention and acknowledgement through sharp juxtaposition or shifting from one part of a story to another in a manner reminiscent of a page being turned or curtain pulled. But these examples are notable because they're standout exceptions - most editing has the far more mundane, but no less miraculous, task of turning a three-walled set filled with lights, cameras, microphones, and all the people running them into the illusion of...

Anyone who knows their Never Say Dice Lore is familiar with our lifelong Simpsons fandom. While we were lucky enough to catch the legendary Golden Age of the series when those episodes were first airing, we actually started before even that. While most of the elements are present that would eventually enshrine the series in cultures worldwide, the show itself is rather different in its first two seasons: slower, with a smaller scope and emphasis primarily on family and social relationships - not to mention relatable scenarios, the kind of things that happen to regular people. (And not one single magic robot!) As a kid, I remember them hitting pretty hard emotionally, particularly “Bart Gets an F,” “Bart’s Dog Gets an F” (no surprise those would hit someone who, at the time, was the same age as Bart), but especially “One Fish, Two Fish, Blowfish, Blue Fish” which dealt with mortality I’d never seen before. I had fewer of those moments of deep emotional connection as the series went on, ...